


Garrus Effect: The Archangel

by Neo_Ethereal



Series: Garrus Effect [4]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Gen, Science Fiction, Vigilantism, omega - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-26
Updated: 2016-09-05
Packaged: 2018-08-11 06:10:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7879567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neo_Ethereal/pseuds/Neo_Ethereal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Garrus Vakarian gets acquainted with his new home, the outlaw station Omega, setting in motion waves that will rock the Terminus to its core.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Settling In

The turian C-Sec officer turned vigilante skulked through the Gozu district of Omega, his talons tucked into the deep pockets of his long Palaven trenchcoat. Garrus kept his head low as he traveled back to his lowly apartment, best he could afford on his meager funds. It had been two weeks now since his arrival on this station. This made for the fourteenth day of scouting the area, figuring out who the movers and shakers were, who knew what and who knew how to keep him equipped for the battles sure to come. He already knew that the prime rule of Omega was "don't fuck with Aria," so he kept her lackeys at arm's length. He found out that aside from the blue queen, the Blood Pack, Blue Suns, and Eclipse mercenary groups controlled most of the power and commerce out here.

He ran his omni-tool across his humble door, beckoning it open. Once in his simple kitchen, he took the bags of food and household mods out of his coat. He grabbed the simplest, easiest meal he could prepare first, placing it into the shitty instant oven nearby. He took out his dextro-friendly vegetable soup, still lukewarm, scarfing it down with abandon. He then took himself to the chair, his favorite one, favorite mostly because of the view from it. From here, the window afforded him the chance to look at the market he just visited. He kept track of who came here and when, making notes of patterns, who were the heavies, who came in for protection money, who bought what food, what mods, and who paid for what sexual favors. This, with the information he already had courtesy of Wrex, allowed him to be build his own, more complete dossiers of Omega's heavy hitters. He chuckled at his own nickname for this list, "the Garrus files," stopping when he figured that only he and none of his friends from the _Normandy_ would've found that amusing.

Somehow in the middle of this he fell asleep. He still wasn't fully adjusted to the day/night cycles here.

_"Garrus?"_

_He looked up with surprise. His higher brain function told him there was no way this could be real, yet it seemed to be just so. He was aboard_ Normandy _again. He was there, in his usual spot in the cargo bay by the Mako. Shepard came down on the painfully slow cargo elevator, stepping toward him when it finished, that usual cheerful smirk on her face. Her hair was down like always, but it seemed longer now, even more vibrantly red than he last recalled. Her tight blue Alliance fatigues flexed snugly around her every curve. Her beautiful slim muscles rippled like some asari goddess._

_"Garrus. I was hoping to find you all alone, here in the cargo bay. No one to see us."_

_"Huh? What do you--" He looked around, only now realizing that they were indeed alone._

_"You're so passionate in your pursuit of justice, Garrus. I was hoping maybe you knew how to channel that passion somewhere else."  She swayed her hips to the side._

_"Commander! Shepard. I don't know what to, uh..."_

_"You worried that you might hurt me? It's okay, I've studied human-turian relations. I'm eager to put that into practice. You and your handsome looks, that smoldering face paint, your long, muscular body, your heart of gold, that way you get nervous every time I smile at you. I want it."_

_"Um. Shepard. You're my commanding--"_

_"Shh. Tonight, I'm a woman, looking to be in the company of a man." She began to unzip her top..._

Vakarian woke with a start, sweating profusely. He cursed as he looked down to see he'd dropped his omni-tool, the "Garrus files" still wide open on holo-display. He went into the bathroom to splash himself with some cold water. He noted the time, that it was just now the Omega equivalent of midnight. Except this place never truly slept. The ordinary people here would huddle in their apartments, waiting out the gang warfare, the vorcha-led burglaries, the endless partying at the clubs that permeated every neighborhood. Returning to his perch with a glass of the strongest alcohol he had, Garrus watched, waited, studied the people of Omega. His time would come, he told himself. His time to finally make a real difference in this galaxy.


	2. My Good Deeds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the depths of Omega, a chance encounter sends Garrus's quest in a new direction.

It was the third week of Garrus's self-imposed exile on Omega. True to his new routine, he walked home from the Gozu market with enough food and drink to sate him for the week to come. As was customary, one of Aria's spies leered at him he strode past. Garrus's C-Sec training and honed instincts told him who here was legitimate and who was undercover for one of the merc gangs or crime bosses. Tonight, one of the locals, an asari kid who struck him as being barely past fifty, was in more of a hurry than usual to leave after her shift ended. Garrus knew she always clocked out at the same time every night and went straight home. Tonight she was almost running when she closed up at the food stand. Curious, Vakarian pulled his trenchcoat's hood over his head and followed her.

They went down alleys, turns and loops before getting to her neighborhood, a cluster of pre-fab shelters crammed and welded into what used to be a security outpost just outside Gozu. The short, slender young asari stopped every now and then to check corners and nooks, as if she expected someone to jump out at her at any given moment. She kept her omni-tool on, presumably to scan for anyone hostile. The problem on Omega was that almost anyone could be hostile, almost anyone could be your enemy at any given time. Garrus kept far enough away to keep her in his line of sight, but otherwise he blended into the dark metals and dim lighting of this space station's murky interior like a turian gargoyle.

There was a fire built in a confluence, where six different alleyways joined together. The poorest of the poor on Omega used tanks of hydrogen and helium-3 to fuel low-tech bonfires, a cheaper and easier way to keep warm and cook food in parts of the station that typically ran colder or otherwise on low power. A couple of batarians in drab brown mercenary class armor, and a ragged, decrepit human in gray and tan miner's clothes sat by the fire, looking up at the young asari with expectant eyes. By this time Garrus was perched up high, watching this unfold from atop a damaged pre-fab unit that jutted up and out at a sharp angle. He engaged his visor and omni-tool, using their combined sensors and applications to see perfectly in the dark, and to pick up with superb clarity every word being said below.

"Well, ain't you a pretty little one," the human said. "Ahead of schedule too."

"W-what do you want with me?"

This time one of the batarians spoke up. "The gang could use a biotic. You can't hide it anymore, your little talents."

"All asari have... some, biotic ability." She took a step back.

The batarian chuckled. "Not like yours. We've been lookin' for someone who could give us a little... edge. Somethin' we can us to strike back at the Talons." He stepped past the fire, almost close enough to reach her. "You don't wanna keep livin' under their thumbs, do ya? We can get you out of this shitty neighborhood."

"I-I don't want to get involved, please..."

Garrus tapped his visor again, running a scan on the gang members below him. The batarian and human doing the talking registered as nothing but small fish. No one even had a bounty on them. But the other batarian, who stood with his arms crossed by the bum fire, he had a rap sheet. _That's Rhi'hesh Shurta. Leader of Four Hands, the only gang sticking a thorn into the Talons' side in this district. The Talons in turn, they're the only ones here sticking it to the Blue Suns. Interesting..._

"Why won't you leave me alone? Why won't you just let me work in peace?" The kid's lips quivered.

"That ain't the way of it, sweetheart," the human offered, showing his yellow teeth in a crooked smile. "You either take what you need to survive here, or you're the one taken."

_That girl was born out here in the Terminus. She didn't choose this life. She's trying to make enough of a living to take care of her sister, so someday they can leave this station. They deserve the chance._

"Now don't ya think about turning on those biotics here and now, or we'll just take your life instead." The human readied a Carnifex pistol, aimed right at her head. 

_That pistol looks too new. He must've stolen it. Maybe lifted it off of another dead gang member._

"Please, I don't, I don't want anything to do with this. Please, you can have my money, just leave me be." She offered up a credit chit in her shaking blue palm.

 _That's it._ Garrus pulled a metal block out of his coat, unfolding it into the familiar shape of a Mantis rifle.

"Oh now that's generous of you, but it won't get you outta this." The batarian grabbed her arm while his human counterpart snatched her credit chit. They both stopped in place and turned around to see their leader's head exploded into a mess of blue, green and gray goop as his now lifeless body slumped to the ground in a worthless heap. The two gang members panicked, running off in opposite directions. The surviving batarian ran around a corner, re-tracing the route the asari took, only to run into a neural shock tripwire that rendered him helpless and in incredible pain.

The asari screamed in fright as she dove into a corner, taking cover under whatever scraps she could find. She covered her head in her hands, crying, listening to the agonizing screams of the Four Hands batarian who'd just run away. She squinted her eyes harder as she heard the human yell, his pistol firing three shots that echoed through the whole neighborhood. From here she winced as she heard the sounds of bones breaking and more screams of terror. She didn't know how long the ordeal truly lasted, but the next thing she realized, a set of two fingers grabbed the sheet of metal she was under, gently lifting it up.

"Are you okay," Garrus asked, his voice calm and low.

"W-w-who--" The girl shuddered, her hands still cupped over her head as she looked up at him with her big greenish-blue eyes.

"That doesn't matter. I wanted to make sure I brought this back to you." He held her credit chit in his other hand. He lowered it down to her, beckoning her to retrieve it. She wiped some tears from her face, hesitated, grabbed it, then retreated backward, pressing herself further into the heap of scrap metal and trash. "It's okay," he offered, his voice softening. "I won't hurt you. I'll make sure that no one thinks you were involved in what happened here."

She blinked a few times. She could barely see his features under his hood, save for that blue visor over his left eye. "Why? No one... no one here does something for someone... unless they have something to gain."

Garrus smiled in an almost menacing way that only turians could pull off. "I'm not like the other people here. You and your sister are safe for the time being. You should go home now." The turian gently laid the metal sheet aside, turned, and walked away into the deep Omega night. His coat billowed as the air recyclers in the area finally kicked in for the evening. For just a second, his turian crest and the golden bird on his shoulder plate were visible to this young asari. She stood up on her shaky legs, clutching her credits like a child would a toy. She watched as Garrus disappeared into the night, and vowed to herself that she would not let his good deed go unnoticed.


	3. Guardian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amidst a rising body count, an Omega gang responds the only way they know how to: with violence.

Selkeet Shiriron, batarian enforcer for the Four Hands. That was how he thought of himself when asked by anyone who he was or what he did for a living. Everything in life was filtered by either the reputation of his name, his species, or his status as a heavy in an up and coming Omega gang. Up and on the rise, until someone blew the head off his leader, Rhi'hesh, the only person among them with more than two brain cells to rub together. The rest were just thugs, junkies and street scum, hired for the lowest bidding of credits to do dirty work on Omega, hoping maybe one day they'll get their big break, that they'd someday be worthy enough to walk in the same district as Aria T'Loak.  
  
Selkeet hated that bitch. Every other night he masturbated to the thought of strangling her little blue neck. The nights he didn't, he thought of what he would like to do with the little asari rat who sold out his leader. What fun her small, tight little body could provide once the gang was done with her biotics.  
  
He just wanted to go back into his shitty little loft and forget all of this. He didn't want to be chased down an alley to escape some hotshot new vigilante who thought killing mercs made a good pastime. He was tired. Tired of running, tired of dodging, tired of hiding. He didn't give a fuck if the old batarian gods were real any more. He just wanted this to end. He stopped in place, turned around slowly, dramatically, feeling absolutely certain that a scope was trained on him even now. He pulled his Avenger rifle off his back, slamming a fresh heat sink into the receiver. Firing at where he would hide if he were a sniper, he roared into the Omega night until his mouth and throat dried and begged him to stop. He didn't have long to worry about it, as his head was torn inside out then smeared over half the alleyway when a high explosive slug flew through one of his left eyes.  
  
 _38 headshots since departing C-Sec_ , Garrus's visor reminded him when its sensor recorded the kill. _Hmm. I think that was messy enough. Garrus sighed as he surveyed the carnage again through his scope. That should send a nice message._ He noted the heat warning on the side of his Mantis. Another shot before he vented it would lock up the system. _I suppose one of these days I'll need to upgrade you. Throw in that new thermal clip system, then some calibrations here and there, and you'll be all set._  
  
Vakarian went back to his apartment in Gozu district using his new route, an old set of maintenance shafts running over the marketplace. At one point it used to be part of Omega's air circulation system; now it was an almost totally forgotten cavern connecting several different districts, a dark, dank, treacherous network used only by the occasional bum or smuggler. Now in his fifth week on Omega, Garrus had these shafts expertly mapped, with exit and entry points set up in every important section of Gozu. He came back in to his home through the fake door he'd built into his closet. The whole thing made him feel more heroic than he thought he should. His mind went elsewhere. To a point out there, a distant star in Citadel space.  
  
Groaning as he sat down for the first time in nearly 24 hours, the turian punched up his extranet terminal. Wary as ever of anyone finding out who he really was and who his friends were, he logged in under an encrypted profile that reasserted itself under a new extranet ID every time it was accessed. He scrambled the video and buried his audio feed under a three layer firewall before sending his request through the relays. He waited patiently, sipping on some turian brandy as the comm systems in the Sahrabarik system sent data feeds through the relays, clear to the other side of the galaxy. The whole thing put him in awe when he stopped to think about it, but then that reminded him how the Reapers built the relays in the first place...  
  
He cleared his throat dramatically when the connection was finally made.  
  
 _"Brother?"_  
  
He could hear Solana shaking her head through just her tone of voice.  
  
"Yeah sis."  
  
 _"Really? Three months, this time!? You've had all of us wondering where the spirits took you for three. Whole. Months!"_  
  
"I'm sorry. Really, I am, it's just, I can't get into details. It isn't safe."  
  
 _"Right. You should probably work on that alias then."_  
  
Garrus frowned when he realized his extranet name displayed as Gary. Not very turian-sounding, but not so different from his real name either. _I'll have to work on that._  
  
"Point taken. Sis, there is so much that deserves to be said. I know I haven't been a good brother, or a good son. But I..." He trailed off, his confidence wavering.  
  
 _"You're doing important work. Protecting for the innocent."_ Solana's tone left him wondering whether she was sincere or sarcastic.  
  
"It's complicated, but yes."  
  
 _"Still fighting the commander's battle, huh?"_  
  
He groaned, for the moment taken aback. As biting as his dialogue with his sister usually was, she always astonished him with how respectful and understanding she could still be to his situation, having enough sense to not even drop Shepard's name in conversation. "Yes, but also my own. Both involve removing some very dangerous threats to the people trying to live in peace in this damn galaxy."  
  
 _"You could still keep in touch more. No matter what happens, you're still my brother."_  
  
"I know. That's on me. Look, I'm sorry, time's pretty limited. How's mom?"  
  
There was noted, definite pause. _"She's slowly slipping away from us."_  
  
"The money I wired didn't help?"  
  
 _"It did. But, all we're doing is dabbing a cloth on a still-bleeding wound. We need more than just credits. We need access to a better doctor. There's no one here who can..."_  
  
"Sis?"  
  
 _"Dad tried to use some of his pull with the military, but turns out the person he served with, the one who went into the Medicinal Ministry, was killed in the Battle of the Citadel. He only just found out. I don't know who we can turn to next."_  
  
"I'll keep sending money. Whatever I can. Look sis, I do have to go, but I will try to get in touch again soon."  
  
 _"You said that last time."_  
  
"Take care of mom the best you can."  
  
 _"Stay alive out there, brother. I mean it."_

"I'll do my best."

  
* * *

The next morning was a late one. Garrus slept in, still in his armor. When he realized what time it was, he got up with a shot, not bothering to clean up or eat any breakfast. He was not about to break the routine he kept up for the Omega populace. He threw on his trenchcoat and made his way down to the market. He went to the food stall to pick up his usual stock of Palaven exports, fruit, vegetables and protein packs that turians could eat with no worries. The turian vendor, who preferred to only be called Dex, regaled Garrus with more talk about how thermal clips were the Council's way of taking control over the weapons market. Garrus "uh-huhed" his way through that conversation as he finalized his purchase. He was down to his last few hundred credits. As it had been since he left C-Sec, most of Garrus's money went to his family, bounced around different accounts all across the galaxy until it stopped with his sister. 

He skulked away from Dex, catching the eye of the asari girl he'd saved before. _Mila. She's still coming back to her job even after what happened. She's a brave little girl._ He smiled weakly and tried to move on, but a flash disc flew from her hands into his path. It was shaped like a grenade but was really just a holo projector. She'd programmed a message into it: _"Thank you. I don't know your name and I'm not going to ask. I know now it's not safe for some people to know who are or who your family is. But you saved mine. My sister is getting better now. Maybe someday you can meet her so she can thank you too. You're our guardian angel."_

He smiled in his mind, but outwardly remained stoic. He continued on his usual path, absorbing the gossip and activity around him. Everything seemed to be business as usual, until he noticed that Aria's spies were not to be seen. _That's not a good sign._

Like some fluttering turian ghost, Garrus crept quietly through the crowds and hustle of Gozu district, his omni-tool and visor tuned to seek out any extranet or local com activity. There was a lot of garbage data to pick through, but turning the corner to go back down his home street, he picked up an encrypted signal. Most people here lacked basic encryption skills, so this was of interest. With ease he bypassed their firewall so he could listen in:

_"...yeah. They're gonna hit him tonight, with whatever they have left. Either this guy proves that he's actually good, or we'll have to put up with the Four Hands a little while longer."_

_"Get ready to do cleanup. If any of the Four Hands survive feed'em to the Talons."  
_

_"Got it."  
_

Vakarian smiled to himself. He was going to get his chance to finish this gang off, if they really were stupid enough to attack him head on.

* * *

Pom Hular hated his job. He never wanted to use his skills with electronics to do mundane things like opening locked doors. He always fancied himself being a spy for one of the merchant's guilds, living fat on a Volus luxury liner in between dangerous, exotic adventures. Or maybe he could work for the Shadow Broker. Instead, bad luck and a botched contract negotiation landed him in a miner's guild on Omega. When the whole rest of the guild were killed in a ship crash, he was forced to seek out whatever employment he could find. Now he was picking locks and decrypting security measures for some low life gang. He spun his bypass wheel to get past the third layer of encryption on this door. Whoever this turian was, he'd thought to himself time and again, he was damned good at securing his dwelling.

Hular let out long, even for a volus, sigh of exasperated relief when the door control finally lit up "green." He hated this job, but there was some satisfaction in overcoming someone who actually knew how to secure a door. His hatred of his life and his work was the last thing on his mind as the doorway exploded in his face, sending metal, glass and kinetic slugs flying out, engulfing Hular and the rest of his gang in a shroud of fire and shrapnel.

Up above, watching over Gozu from his perch in the maintenance causeway, Garrus heard the distinct whomp of an explosion below. He felt the vibration, studied the report for a moment; he knew what explosive it was and where it came from.

_So much for the Four Hands._

He paused in his tracks for a moment.

_Damn. Now I need to buy a new door._


End file.
